He purred louder. I carried him up the stairs, talking to him, reaching out to push open the door, and—
My hand hit the solid door. Okay, apparently I’d shut it when I came down. That was an old habit from living at home, where my mother would get so flustered over an open basement door, you’d think hordes of bats and spiders were preparing to launch an assault.
I reached for the handle. It turned easily. I pushed. Nothing happened. I pushed harder. Still nothing.
The door was sticking. Old houses. Swollen wood. Whatever. I put TC down, twisted the handle, and rammed my shoulder against it. Pain shot through my shoulder. The door didn’t budge. I shone the light in the crack between the door and the frame, then turned the handle and watched the bolt disengage. I ran the light up and down, but there was no sign of anything else holding it closed.
“No need to panic,” I told the cat, who was placidly cleaning his ears. “There’s no one here, so we haven’t been locked in the basement. We’re just stuck. Temporarily.”
He meowed and trotted back down the stairs.
“Good idea,” I said. “Search for an alternate exit.”
I had just reached the bottom of the steps when my phone rang. Gabriel.
“What’s up?” I said as casually as I could for someone trapped in the basement of an abandoned house.
“I need information from the Meade file. You took it, correct?”
“Right. You asked me to have a look—”
“Yes, I know. But I need witness contact information from it. Are you at home?”
I looked around. “Not exactly.”
“It’s rather urgent. A new development in the case, and I have to check with the witness before the prosecution does. If you aren’t close by, I’ll need to go out to your apartment.”
“I have a security system now and updated locks.”
“Then I’ll take the code. You can change it after.”
That didn’t cover the updated locks, which he presumably could still pick. Hell, I was sure he could disarm the alarm, too—he was just pretending otherwise to make me feel secure.
“I’m close to home,” I said as I walked across the basement, looking for doors or large windows. “Just give me—”
The cat yowled.
“Is that TC?” Gabriel said.
“It is. I found him.”
A louder yowl as the cat called my attention to something. I hurried toward him. It was a dead mouse. Lovely. He kept yowling even when I patted his head.
“He doesn’t sound very happy, Olivia,” Gabriel said.
“I know. He wants to get home.”
A pause as the cat kept it up.
“Are you sure?” His voice lowered. “I know you miss him, but if he doesn’t want to go back with you—”
“Oh, for God’s sake. I never wanted a cat in the first place. Do you really think I’d be dragging him home now? Scratching and yowling?”
The cat stopped.
“Thank you,” I whispered. Then to Gabriel, “Can I call you back?”
“How far are you from home?”
“About a mile.”
“All right. While you walk, tell me what you found in—”
“Actually, now’s not a good time,” I said, staring up at another window I’d never fit through. “I’ll call you back.”
TC meowed. Loudly. It echoed through the empty basement.
“Where are you, Olivia?”
“Can I call—?”
TC began scratching at a different closed door. While yowling.
“Olivia. Where—?”
“On my way home. Soon.” I checked the room where TC had been scratching. One window. No bigger than the rest. I closed the door again. “I’ve just . . . I’ve had a setback. Can I just call you—?”
“You’re not outside, are you?”
I sighed. “No, okay? I’m . . . I found TC in the basement of an abandoned house. Well, I’m not sure you’d call it abandoned—it’s just not being lived in. I’m having trouble getting out of the basement.”
“Trouble?”
The cat sat on the bottom step, looking up at me, silent now.
“I went downstairs, and I must have closed the door, but it won’t open. It doesn’t seem to be locked, but I can’t get it—”
“You’re chatting with me about work when someone has locked you in a basement?”
“You were chatting about work. I was looking for an exit. And no one has me locked—”
“The door mysteriously closes behind you and won’t reopen?”
“I might have closed it, like I said. There’s no one here. The place is so quiet I’d hear a mouse scampering.”
A ding sounded at the other end of the line. Then the familiar whoosh of a closing elevator door.
“Where are you?” I asked carefully.
“Coming to get you.”
“No, no, no. Go back up to your condo. I’m fine.”
“You’re locked in the basement of an empty house, not even a week after being knocked out by someone who left a severed head in your bed. Also after repeatedly seeing a fetch—”
“It wasn’t a fetch. Rose thinks . . . Never mind. The point is—”
“The point is that you are trapped in a basement.” His footsteps echoed. Parking garage.
“And you are an hour away.”
“If I drove the speed limit. Which I do not.”
I sighed. “I’m fine, Gabriel. If I really can’t get out, my phone obviously works. I can call the police.”
“After breaking into an empty house?”
“It was unlocked. Look, if I need to, I can call Rose.”
“She’s in the city tonight on a date.”
“Date?” I tried to picture it and failed. “Okay, then I’ll call someone at the diner—if and when I’m absolutely sure that I can’t get out. My cell phone battery is half full. The house is silent. I’m not going to die down here.”
“What’s the address?” His car’s engine roared to life.
“Gabriel? Really. Don’t do this. I made a stupid mistake—”
“I’ll call you for the address when I’m in Cainsville. If you hear anything, phone the police. Don’t worry about trespassing charges. I can fix that.”
My hand hit the solid door. Okay, apparently I’d shut it when I came down. That was an old habit from living at home, where my mother would get so flustered over an open basement door, you’d think hordes of bats and spiders were preparing to launch an assault.
I reached for the handle. It turned easily. I pushed. Nothing happened. I pushed harder. Still nothing.
The door was sticking. Old houses. Swollen wood. Whatever. I put TC down, twisted the handle, and rammed my shoulder against it. Pain shot through my shoulder. The door didn’t budge. I shone the light in the crack between the door and the frame, then turned the handle and watched the bolt disengage. I ran the light up and down, but there was no sign of anything else holding it closed.
“No need to panic,” I told the cat, who was placidly cleaning his ears. “There’s no one here, so we haven’t been locked in the basement. We’re just stuck. Temporarily.”
He meowed and trotted back down the stairs.
“Good idea,” I said. “Search for an alternate exit.”
I had just reached the bottom of the steps when my phone rang. Gabriel.
“What’s up?” I said as casually as I could for someone trapped in the basement of an abandoned house.
“I need information from the Meade file. You took it, correct?”
“Right. You asked me to have a look—”
“Yes, I know. But I need witness contact information from it. Are you at home?”
I looked around. “Not exactly.”
“It’s rather urgent. A new development in the case, and I have to check with the witness before the prosecution does. If you aren’t close by, I’ll need to go out to your apartment.”
“I have a security system now and updated locks.”
“Then I’ll take the code. You can change it after.”
That didn’t cover the updated locks, which he presumably could still pick. Hell, I was sure he could disarm the alarm, too—he was just pretending otherwise to make me feel secure.
“I’m close to home,” I said as I walked across the basement, looking for doors or large windows. “Just give me—”
The cat yowled.
“Is that TC?” Gabriel said.
“It is. I found him.”
A louder yowl as the cat called my attention to something. I hurried toward him. It was a dead mouse. Lovely. He kept yowling even when I patted his head.
“He doesn’t sound very happy, Olivia,” Gabriel said.
“I know. He wants to get home.”
A pause as the cat kept it up.
“Are you sure?” His voice lowered. “I know you miss him, but if he doesn’t want to go back with you—”
“Oh, for God’s sake. I never wanted a cat in the first place. Do you really think I’d be dragging him home now? Scratching and yowling?”
The cat stopped.
“Thank you,” I whispered. Then to Gabriel, “Can I call you back?”
“How far are you from home?”
“About a mile.”
“All right. While you walk, tell me what you found in—”
“Actually, now’s not a good time,” I said, staring up at another window I’d never fit through. “I’ll call you back.”
TC meowed. Loudly. It echoed through the empty basement.
“Where are you, Olivia?”
“Can I call—?”
TC began scratching at a different closed door. While yowling.
“Olivia. Where—?”
“On my way home. Soon.” I checked the room where TC had been scratching. One window. No bigger than the rest. I closed the door again. “I’ve just . . . I’ve had a setback. Can I just call you—?”
“You’re not outside, are you?”
I sighed. “No, okay? I’m . . . I found TC in the basement of an abandoned house. Well, I’m not sure you’d call it abandoned—it’s just not being lived in. I’m having trouble getting out of the basement.”
“Trouble?”
The cat sat on the bottom step, looking up at me, silent now.
“I went downstairs, and I must have closed the door, but it won’t open. It doesn’t seem to be locked, but I can’t get it—”
“You’re chatting with me about work when someone has locked you in a basement?”
“You were chatting about work. I was looking for an exit. And no one has me locked—”
“The door mysteriously closes behind you and won’t reopen?”
“I might have closed it, like I said. There’s no one here. The place is so quiet I’d hear a mouse scampering.”
A ding sounded at the other end of the line. Then the familiar whoosh of a closing elevator door.
“Where are you?” I asked carefully.
“Coming to get you.”
“No, no, no. Go back up to your condo. I’m fine.”
“You’re locked in the basement of an empty house, not even a week after being knocked out by someone who left a severed head in your bed. Also after repeatedly seeing a fetch—”
“It wasn’t a fetch. Rose thinks . . . Never mind. The point is—”
“The point is that you are trapped in a basement.” His footsteps echoed. Parking garage.
“And you are an hour away.”
“If I drove the speed limit. Which I do not.”
I sighed. “I’m fine, Gabriel. If I really can’t get out, my phone obviously works. I can call the police.”
“After breaking into an empty house?”
“It was unlocked. Look, if I need to, I can call Rose.”
“She’s in the city tonight on a date.”
“Date?” I tried to picture it and failed. “Okay, then I’ll call someone at the diner—if and when I’m absolutely sure that I can’t get out. My cell phone battery is half full. The house is silent. I’m not going to die down here.”
“What’s the address?” His car’s engine roared to life.
“Gabriel? Really. Don’t do this. I made a stupid mistake—”
“I’ll call you for the address when I’m in Cainsville. If you hear anything, phone the police. Don’t worry about trespassing charges. I can fix that.”
